


A Kitten For Every Tiger Stripe

by Moransroar



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Kittens, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-12 22:11:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3357104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moransroar/pseuds/Moransroar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian comes home to an unusual stench and unfamiliar little noises coming from Jim's bedroom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Kitten For Every Tiger Stripe

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little one shot I wrote for my Valentine Pen Pal Appledorevaults of Tumblr :*

It is almost eleven pm, and Sebastian comes home from a long day of work, from running around to sitting still for hours on end, thinking that once he would get home he would get his long night of well-deserved and peaceful sleep.

But the first thing that hits him when he unlocks the door to the apartment he shares with Jim, is a smell he doesn’t recognise. It’s not all too prominent, but Sebastian is still able to distinguish it from the usual scents that have a habit of lingering about the house.

It is not only unfamiliar in the sense that it doesn’t belong in the apartment, but he has also never really smelled it in general. It’s a sort of acidic stench but he knows that it doesn’t belong to any chemicals Jim usually brings into their home. It’s not the smell of burned food, no fire or experiment gone wrong. But it’s new, and it is somewhat unsettling because the house is dead quiet.

“Jim?” Sebastian calls as he shrugs out of his jacket and hangs it up on the coat rack right after having put down his backpack, toeing out of his shoes as he leans back to peer into the living room in an attempt at catching a glance of the criminal. On socked feet, Sebastian makes his way into the living room, but there’s nobody there. The television is turned on, however, and it’s the slightest sigh of life. It means that Jim has to be close, unless he had decided to leave the house and not turn it off—which is a possibility, what with the criminal’s chaotic mind.

There is no response when Sebastian calls again, and he heaves a sigh as he turns the telly off to go into the kitchen. He could really do with something to eat after such a long day, and his stomach churns in protest at the very thought of having some warm food in his belly. There are some leftovers in the fridge, and the sniper heats it in the microwave. It is then that he spots a bright blue plastic tray in the corner of the kitchen, one that he had never seen before either.

First the stench, and then the tray. Sebastian frowns and raises an eyebrow as he approaches the thing. It’s filled with a grey sort of gravel, tiny little stones. Only when the man sits by it, lowering to his hunches, does he realise that the thing is a bloody litter box. His mind immediately makes the connection to the stench, labelling it as cat piss. Great.

“Jim…” The blond murmurs before raising his voice, wanting to know what on earth was going on, “JIM.”

Still no response, and despite his exhaustion Sebastian is getting really agitated with the lack of reciprocation. He knows Jim is around here somewhere, and God forbid the man has brought in a cat.

Sebastian has never really had a pet ever since he went into the military and after that avoided his father’s clutches, the only contact he had ever had with pets being the dogs they had held on the Moran estate. The animals had been vicious, trained fighters, and absolutely not made for petting or holding close. Sebastian had never really been afraid of the hounds, as they were always restrained and kept in their cages, but it hadn’t really flared a particular love for animals within the young Moran.

He just hoped that Jim knew what he was doing.

At least it wasn’t a canine, Sebastian figures as he goes back to the kitchen counter and the microwave to stick a spoon in his food and scoop it up. That would be a disaster seeming as they live ten floors above the ground, and dogs need to be taken out for walks often which would have been easier if they had a garden. But the litter box is obviously a cat’s, so that is one less worry troubling his mind.

Nevertheless, a cat can be just as much of a burden. Feeding them, visits to the vet for casual check-ups, castrating if it’s a male and sterilizing if it’s a female. No way they were going to have the feline propagate and multiply.

A thought hits him, and he is momentarily taken aback because _what if it’s more than one?_

A tiny meow tears him from his thoughts, followed by something that sounds oddly similar to a giggle, but it’s clearly Jim and Sebastian knows for a fact that the Napoleon of crime doesn’t generally giggle.

Sebastian puts down his food on the cooking island for later as he goes into the living room, concentrating on any other sounds. It is pretty obvious where the sounds had come from quickly, so the blond turns into the hall, farther into the house, to Jim’s bedroom. The door swings open smoothly, no sound interrupting the scene before him as Sebastian steps in and leans against the doorframe.

Jim lays sprawled out on the broad bed, no suit in sight as it had been replaced with simple sweatpants and a tee shirt, and there are several little black balls of fur crawling over his chest. Some are curled up and asleep, some are mewing quietly in little high-pitched squeaks, nudging Jim’s chin and the hands that dance across the fluffy hairs.

And Jim is smiling, grinning down at the bundles of fur.

There must be four kittens, because Jim’s chest is pretty much entirely covered with the animals, and something about the image melts Sebastian’s previous anger.

Jim doesn’t pay any mind to the sniper, continuing to coo quietly to the petite things, and Sebastian doesn’t want to interrupt him so he stays in the doorway for a little while longer, simply watching.

After another moment of studying Jim’s admiration for the small creatures, Sebastian steps over the threshold and tiptoes closer to the bed to sit down as carefully as he can so not to disturb the occupants.

“Tiger,” Jim acknowledges, to which Sebastian smiles in return.

“I see you’ve gotten yourself a small family,” Sebastian observes, reaching out and tentatively touching the black hairs of one of the kittens, carding softly through the fur. It’s incredibly soft and makes the sniper wander how old the felines are.

Jim hums a tone of affirmation as he picks up one of the kittens and nuzzles his nose against its tummy, causing a fond little smile to tug at the corners of Sebastian’s lips. It’s adorable, really. But this can’t be a permanent thing.

“I _am_ going to keep them,” Says Jim as if he was able to hear what the other was thinking.

Sebastian isn’t sure if he agrees on that just yet, but seeing the man handle the kittens with such gentle care and love triggers something. A.. good something, quite frankly. A warm fire kindling in his motionless heart. It’s a weakness with him, he has to admit. It almost makes Jim seem vulnerable.

The kitten which Jim is holding mewls softly, paws pressed to Jim’s lips and hind legs struggling without real ferocity. He then hands it to Sebastian, who is a little at a loss with what to do at first. But the kitten fits on the palm of one hand as it curls in on itself, its tail swaying back and forth before settling around its frail body.

Sebastian feels his heart swell in his chest, and his other hand joins the first to stroke a finger lightly between big ears, too big for the feline’s small head before he inclines his head to press a brief kiss to the centre of its head.

Maybe, just maybe, he could see his way with these small things strutting around the apartment, and Sebastian reckoned it would be a nice thing to come home to; cute little kittens and the endearing little cooing coming from his boss. It certainly did give him peace.

“I suppose we could.. keep them for a little while longer,” Sebastian admits softly, earning a big grin from Jim who –Sebastian realises- had probably seen such a reaction coming, but that doesn’t bother the marksman.

Yeah. This could be good. This could be really nice indeed.


End file.
